Thorn Bird
by Cutie Bunny
Summary: "One layer of an egg's shell, cast against a stone will surely break. But no matter how strong a stone, it is dead. And no matter how weak an egg, it is alive. When time passes a stone will crumble into dirt. But someday there is a chick who will hatch from that egg and walk upon that dirt. The day will come when your murderous tyranny and oppression cannot defeat that egg."
1. Hermione's Thorn

Thorn Bird

Chapter I:

Hermione's Thorn

* * *

><p>Pairings: Tom Riddle JR X Hermione Granger<p>

Rated: M

Plot: (Time-turner fic) The light tainted by darkness, becomes the darkness in order to defeat the darkness. This is an epic tale of revenge and love spanning an entire lifetime — this is the story of two women, Ginny and Hermione who has to suffer all the sacrifices in their life, and will go to extreme measures and walk very different paths to achieve their desires.

Ginny is a strong and courageous woman who has suffered a difficult life, but continues to embrace people around her despite longing for affection herself. She harbours the hope that she will meet her beloved families and friends if she saves Tom Riddle as Harry wished, striving to reach her goal and overcome her suffering with her pure and innocent nature.

In contrast, Hermione was once a pure and innocent girl. But that all changes when the war breaks out, losing her lover, friends and family. Her traumatic past pushes her on a path of vengeance against the people who wronged her and made her life into shambles.

In 1938, she is now a woman-turned-child whose life is a complicated web of lies, propelled by her greedy desires that stems from the wars, she's willing to throw away everything in order to get revenge on the people who caused her pain and ruined her entire life. While knowing her tragic ambition will eventually leads her down the path of destruction; she pursues her ambition with mad determination...

The 'thorn birds' of the title refers to Hermione's character, who can only bring out her best at the cost of great pain.

Summary: Hermione and Ginny dangerously dangled at the edge of the cliff; coming face to face with the Dark Lord she unleashes the diatribe, "No victory lasts forever. The war can be started again by those who seek victory. It may appear reckless. One layer of an egg's shell, cast against a stone will surely break. But no matter how strong a stone, it is dead. And no matter how weak an egg, it is alive. When time passes a stone will crumble into dirt. But someday there is a chick who will hatch from that egg and walk upon that dirt. The day will come when your murderous tyranny and oppression cannot defeat that egg." Then they jumped.

* * *

><p><em><span><strong>AN:**__** Before you guys read this, I want you to know (if you don't already know) about the meaning of the name Hermione because I will be adding (a little twisted) elements related to meanings of the name 'Hermione'. **_

_**Hermione's name meaning derives from Greek word**_**_ and in Greek mythology; Hermione was the daughter of King Menelaus of Sparta and Helen of Troy. The name also appears in Shakespeare's play, 'The Winter's Tale' as the Queen of Sicily to King Leontes._**

**_Hermione _**_** is considered feminine version of Hermes (who acted as a messenger between Gods and humans) therefore it is safe to assume that meaning of Hermione is:**_

_**Messenger, earthly, stone and well born.**_

_**Also, I'll be basing off people's description from the movies (for some reason, I prefer the actor who played Tom Riddle in HP 6 than Christian Coulson) for some but most of the time, I'll try to stay faithful to the books. Constructive criticism is welcome.**_

* * *

><p>"When I was a little girl, my understanding of revenge was as simple as the Sunday school proverbs it hid behind. Neat little morality slogans like "do unto other," and "two wrongs don't make a right." But two wrongs can never make a right… …because two wrongs can never equal each other. For the truly wronged, real satisfaction can only be found in one of two places… …absolute forgiveness or mortal vindication. This is not a story about forgiveness." — Emily Thorne, Revenge.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Her twisted fate shakes the world.<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>A thorn bird is a mythical bird who sings just once in life, the sweetest song ever to be heard from the day it is born. In fierce pursuit of the thorn tree, the moment it is born, the thorn bird leaves its nest and does not rest until it has fulfilled its final quest." Her mother told her, stroking through her daughter's messy locks, as young Hermione traced the outline of the bird with curious wonder, "Silent its entire life until the final hour, its voice begins to float through the air and the whole world stops to listen to the music from the tree. And God looks down and smiles upon the beautiful melody. More lovely than the Nightingale, more melodious than the Lark." The page turned and the image strikes the young girl's heart with the pain filled silhouette of the pierced bird etched upon the paper, "When it finds it, the bird impales itself upon the sharpest thorn, and rises above the agony to sing the most beautiful song ever heard, flowing from its heart before dying among the thorns. What kind of bird would save so sweet a song until the end of its life? Its months of utter silence and then one single ballad to transcend toward the heavens. Who is this peculiar creature, who would so beguile and mystify us with its exotic, bewildering and transforming song?" <strong>_

_**The book ended with the bird's death, an ironic mixture of sadness and joy in its meaning. Its end is neither sad nor happy. It is peaceful, free.**_

_**While the message itself would have been considered level beyond understanding to a child her age, she was no ordinary girl. Young Hermione was brilliant, mature and intelligent for her age. She was…different.**_

"_**Do you think the bird died happy?" Hermione asked her.**_

"_**Probably," She answered, "It found what it was looking for and so without regret, died with happiness."**_

* * *

><p><em>You know, I didn't even dare to dream about it. 19th September, I turned seventeen year old. And I stamped out of my child status. I didn't know that fate will have a very bitter taste…<em>

* * *

><p>Harry handed her enchanted beaded handbag with a determined look, "Take it, Hermione. Should we fail…" he clasped the time-turner around Hermione's neck, the trinket feeling heavy with burden, "Use this."<p>

"Harry, don't do this! There must be another way! I-if you give me some time, I-I can—" Hermione pleaded, her voice hoarse not only from fear and grief but also from the lack of food or water which explained her malnourished appearance.

"I have to. You've done enough." He firmly stated, tracing the torture marks that scarred her once flawless skin, "I lived 17 years of my life trying to make it right. And all I've left behind are burdens. I'm the one who's sorry. Hermione, you have to win. In this world where I never won, try winning once."

The trio and Ginny stood up from the floor, still shaken and dried tears evident on their muddy skins at the revelation that was about to unfold.

Ron gave Harry a small, assuring smile, "Together, mate."

"Together." Harry nodded.

"Ron."

"Harry."

The two men turned around to each of their significant others' voices before they were passionately crushed in the arms of their beloved yet their plea was different.

"Everybody will die." Ginny muttered, noting Harry's hesitant to return the embrace, "There are a lot of people who have already left us: my dad, my brother, my mother, your mother, your father, Sirius… but their love will never leave us. So, even if you're going to die, don't push me away! In this world there are so many unexpected deaths. I don't want us to lose the chance to love each other just because of fear!" It was this courage Ginny showed and gave did Harry returned the hug with same passion.

"Be safe." He whispered to her, "Look after each other. I love you. Even in death, I'll still love you. I was thankful, and more thankful. You must return soon. I will not forget. I can't forget. After death, in whatever world I come to, I will not forget you." Harry gave a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Don't do this Ron." Hermione sobbed, "Please! Just give me a time to find a way!"

A poignant smile spread across his lip, "I love you, so I won't die in order to save you." He promised, "You shouldn't do it either. We will come back."

With slow and grim movement, he unclasped her sweaty hands from his back, "Just because we're lost for a while, doesn't mean we lost everything. The place we are headed towards… there may be some losses but we won't be living like a coward."

With that, he slipped by her hands…like a grain of sand escaping through her fingers, unable to catch the fine slipping soil ever again.

They spoke words of reuniting but the four knew there was only demise waiting for them. Their future was bleak, hopeless and non-existent.

Ron and Harry walked out of the ruins of what was left of Hogwarts, Ginny struggling to hold Hermione back as she asked for one last time.

"Why him?!" She shouted angrily, "Why do you want to..save him?! I can't do it! No, I won't do it!"

Harry glanced over his shoulder, tiredness in his eyes yet they never lost their light, "I feel sorry for him. He's still a monster, like he was then. No — he's worse now. The kid back then still had a good heart. I forgave him. I don't have much time left. I don't want to spend the remainder of my life hating someone. I wish that the feeling before I die won't be that horrible. That's why I'm forgiving him."

Hermione collapsed on the heaps of crumbling walls, "You shouldn't do this…because Harry Potter must live. Because you're the light that must shine for the people who live in darkness. They wouldn't want that light to go out. You said there were too many people living in agony that you had so many things to do. Don't go to the execution. You mustn't go."

"Hermione," Harry smiled for the last time, "No matter how scared you are, you have to accomplish it if you want to. The one who endures and gets past everything is the coolest person in the world."

As they walked out of their hiding place, Hermione's arm stretched and her fingers spread wide as if wishing to grasp them – to stop them – from leaving.

The fear that she might face a truth she can't handle. Maybe… she was more afraid of the choice she would have to make after knowing the truth.

Hermione remembered asking Professor Dumbledore a quite a question at a mere tender age of twelve most children would not fathom:

_**She had asked, "In real life, what do you do if you meet an opponent stronger than you?"**_

_**He answered with shrewd wisdom, "Compared to fighting, running away is the best method."**_

_**But Hermione was not satisfied with such cowardice answer and asked again, "What should you do if you can't run away."**_

_**With an impressed smile, he looked at her with those twinkle eyes, "If fighting and running away won't help, then surrender is the best way. Comply with the opponent and give what they want, beg for your life to be spared and stay alive more than anything else. In reality, that's the best and last self-protection method."**_

_**Hermione frowned, not liking this answer, "If you don't want to run away or surrender, then what would you do? If you fight until you don't have any energy left, is there no other way?"**_

_**He told her with finality, "There is no other way out except risking your life. Violence towards weaker ones starts from cowardliness. A cowardice that says I'm going to bully him since he's weaker than I am. When left with no choice, one should attack that cowardice but the weaker one has no choice except risking his life. However as not many people have that courage, then running away or surrender is the wisest thing to do. But while you still can fight it, fighting is all you need to do. And when you no longer can, protecting it you must. When you no longer can protect it, retreat is all it takes. When retreat is not an option, surrender is your next best decision. Should even surrender proved impossible, on that day, demise shall be your best compeer. **__**When the **__**drums **__**of war cry, **__**law **__**becomes silent. Life is a battleground. Young one, you will understand what I mean, when you grow older."**_

_The sacrifice made by my friends and family today… I will never forget it._ Hermione promised.

Hermione and Ginny, their hands intertwined like tight vines, ran and ran across the stone bridge, deflecting the hexes and jinxes thrown at them, ignoring the slurs of vulgarity directed toward them; they were far too used to those terms to make them stop in their tracks to see who they were pointing at.

"Hermione, where are we going?!" Ginny panted, slightly falling behind in fatigue. All movements has become painful due to atrophy.

"Just follow me!" Hermione ventured, pulling Ginny with strength she could muster. She was at her limit too, she was exhausted to death but they can't stop now. Her legs don't hurt. They bleed, but they don't hurt. Why, she doesn't know. It's just…her heart is soaring to the edge of the sky. She can even reach the moon.

"If you refuse, you'll be killed. If you fail, you'll be killed. If you run away, you'll be killed so just do as I say!"

This seemed to a slight push Ginny needed and soon their pace was on par but soon they came to dangerously close to dangling off the edge of the cliff, coming face to face with the Dark Lord.

He tutted disapprovingly at their futile effort, "Potter's mudblood and blood-traitor at one place..that makes it easier is it not?"

"We haven't lost the war." Ginny retorted, "Even if Harry's dead, his courage is with us."

The Dark Lord made an expression of disgust; lip frowned downward with disapproval, "For a sentiment that will disappear in a few years, you'll gamble away your life? What can you protect, if your only weapon is your emotions?"

There was a bitter look on Hermione's face that was never there before as she unleashes the diatribe, "Those words…I'll make you regret it. No victory lasts forever. The war can be started again by those who seek victory. It may appear reckless. One layer of an egg's shell, cast against a stone will surely break. But no matter how strong a stone, it is dead. And no matter how weak an egg, it is alive. When time passes a stone will crumble into dirt. But someday there is a chick who will hatch from that egg and walk upon that dirt. The day will come when your murderous tyranny and oppression cannot defeat that egg."

_**The start of a storm came but to confront that storm in order not to lose the people important to us. Something like that is not easy at all. But on that day I wished from the bottom of my heart 'I want to be stronger' and now in this storm that draws closer if the time in where I can test that comes I will avert my eyes and I will gaze at the centre of the storm. I won't run away—**_

Hermione stared into Ginny's eyes, nodding. Ginny smiled in encouragement, following it with her nod as they tightened their hold onto each other.

Voldemort's face morphed into pure rage at their futile rebellion, letting out an angry roar, he pointed his wand and casted those words of death, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Grabbing the time-turner, they jumped, avoiding the dark green light emitting from the tip of the blood-drenched wand just barely.

_**While you still can fight it, fighting is all you need to do. And when you no longer can, protecting it you must. When you no longer can protect it, retreat is all it takes. When retreat is not an option, surrender is your next best decision. Should even surrender proved impossible, on that day, demise shall be your best compeer.**_

_**But not today.**_

* * *

><p>Late November, 1938.<p>

The young first year students was not at all prepared for what they were about to encounter in few seconds. Some had their heads bowed in boredom or apparent slumber, most seem to block out the sound of their Transfiguration professor's lesson to stare in blank space with more interest, few whispered under their breathe to their friends nearby, but rare number —young 11-year old Tom Riddle included — was absolutely absorbed with the knowledge they were fed. Tom, in particular, drank it with greedy glint in his eyes that was a fearful feature to be in a child.

**CRACK**!

If half of the class was sleeping, they were more than awake now at the thunderous sound that seemed to resonate through the castle with its shocking frequency. The students jumped, fear slowly creeping into their heart for they knew what lurks in the castle was something not even most of their professors yet to discover all.

The girls huddled together in groups for they still believed in the proverb, 'power in numbers' and boys looked expectedly to their professors with disguised fear. Dumbledore had long stopped his lesson, slowly approaching the door. But nothing could prepare him for what he were about to discover.

On the cold stone floor, laid two young girls, seemingly same age as his students yet so different from what they should be. Their whole forms looked as if they went through months and months of ill-treatments…or war times.

Their robes were far too big for their already malnourished forms, cuts and bruises at different stages marred their skin, dark circles prominent under their closed eyes and dirt clung to them like second skin and looked as if they had no time to change or wash themselves for several months now. He saw in their pale, intertwined hands were wands, tightened as if it were their lifeline.

Children won't be children if they were not full of curiosity after-all. All of his students were now crowded at the small open space of the door yet never stepping out of its zone, all tried to observe at the ruckus through means of standing on their tip-toes or using someone's shoulder as a ledge to hover yet they did not step out of the room for they did not wish to be deducted points or even detention for putting themselves in potential danger when they step out of the classroom. There were several gasps and murmurs.

The girls, in particular, scrunched their noses at the vulgar smells that crept up to their nose, staring at the two pitiful girls like one would look at an insect.

"Who are they?"

"Why…do they look like that?"

"Disgusting…"

"…filthy…"

"Are they…dead?!"

"Child…" Albus called, kneeling down to feel their pulse.

Only one child stepped outside without a fear.

"Shall I call for Madame Howard, Sir?" Tom asked kindly, playing the so-called helpful model student's role as he approached them. Of course, this was just to see what all the noise was about close up without looking so desperate.

"Yes please, Tom. Quickly, if possible."

Hermione could feel the light streaming under her closed lid; opening them she came to see a young boy. Pale skin, jet black hair, and dark blue eyes…

"Harry?" Without a thought, her arm stretched toward him ruefully, "Harry…Harry…"

Tom frowned in confusion before bluntly revealing, "I'm not Harry."

Hermione's eyes snapped open in recognition, shaking off Ginny's hand before she pointed her wand toward him, "Avada Kedavra!"

Dumbledore's' eyes widened in shock, quickly pushing the boy away from the line of the green light. The students screamed, cowering away into the deeper part to the safety of the room. Tom, wide eyed, looked at where the dark green light hit and saw the fatal damage it inflicted onto the ceiling.

Dumbledore took no time in wrenching away her wand with no effort for her muscle had eaten itself away a long time ago to muster up any feeble attempt of resistance.

"Everyone inside NOW!" Dumbledore ordered to the cowering students, "That includes you, Tom."

"Sir, what was that spell?" He asked, ignoring the professor's dictation.

"Tom, inside." Dumbledore repeated, it was something in his eyes — perhaps it was the absence of that magical twinkle usually presented in his orbs — that told Tom he wasn't going to have any discussion.

Wordlessly, Tom stood up, "Yes, sir." With one last look at the girl, he closed the door.

There was a murmur of excitement their lesson was cut short but also of the incidence regarding Tom Riddle.

"Tom, are you alright?" One of the girls cooed in worry, "That girl was just crazy! Firing some random spells to people!"

"I know right?! What if our dear Tom got hurt?!"

"What was that spell she threw to Tom anyway?!" Annette Parkinson shrieked.

"It can't be though…" Abraxas muttered under his breath.

Tom ignored their moans for his safety but shifted his attention to Abraxas.

"What do you mean?"

The Malfoy nodded but his expression was dark and solemn as if what he had heard could not be possible at all, "I-I think so…if I heard it correctly. I sure hope not."

"Why?" Quintus Mulciber asked.

"Because if that spell was what he thinks it is, then that girl is in deep, deep trouble." Alphard Black answered, "My parent told me about this three spells known as Unforgivable Curses that is said to be most powerful and sinister spells there is. The Killing Curse which is obvious of what it does, the Cruciatus Curse is said to deliver excruciating pains to the recipient, and the Imperius Curse make others perform the unquestioned bidding of the caster. They were made illegal long time ago so whoever use them will result in a life sentence to Azkaban. What she could have 'casted' toward you was the killing curse."

Tom suddenly became motionless, eyes narrowed at the revelation.

"That girl can't have been that crazy to do that, right?" Alfred Avery, a boy with blond hair and blue eyes, commented, "If she's able to cast them, she should have known the law."

"I'm curious what will happen to her." Alistair Lestrange playfully mentioned, "Surely, the Ministry will be involved."

"Everyone." The students were startled to see their professor standing behind the door, "The lesson is over for today. Go back to your respectable common rooms, all the lessons today is cancelled."

There was a moment of silence before they broke out in loud 'hoorays', some even threw papers in the air as if you would throw their graduation caps to signify the end of your education.

Tom and his gang were first to leave but they did not return to their common room.

"Tom, where are we going?" Abraxas asked.

"To the hospital wing."

"To see that girl?" Alphard guessed, "Why? Curious?"

"Aren't you?" Tom smirked, "What will happen to her, aren't you curious?"

"Well, yeah.."

"Then be silence and follow."

Riddle, Malfoy, Black, Lestrange and Avery soon arrived at the hospital wing where the two girls were surrounded by Headmaster Dippet, professor Dumbledore and Madame Howard.

"How are they?" Dumbledore asked, watchfully studying their bedraggled states.

Madame Howard looked at the girls pitifully, "I fed them blood-replenishing potion, bruise removal paste, burn-healing paste, calming draught, draught of peace and strength potion. When they awake, we must reintroduce some non-solid food in them. These girls' states are absolutely horrible! Just what had happened to them?!"

"That is what we all wish to know." Headmaster Dippet mentioned.

"Headmaster, these girls need to rest. As soon as they have enough strength, I will call you right away." The usually strict matron had such pleading countenance, silently begging to her employer for she understood the grave wounds these girls endured more than anyone, adding with beseeching, "Please."

"I understand," He nodded understandingly, "Please call me as soon as they awaken." He then walked away, giving one last glance to the girls; failing to notice certain gang of boys hiding in the corner.

Madame Howard, with one last pitied look, went to retrieve more potions.

"They are gone, no need for pretence."

At first, the boys thought his words were directed toward them - caught red-handed - but they were surprise when the girl with bushy brown hair with rather large teeth sat up from her position. They had thought she was asleep.

Her eyes immediately went to the wand still in Dumbledore's hand, and with shaky voice, "Give me… back my wand."

"Do you know what you have done?!" He hissed harshly, the calm façade slipping away, "That spell is Unforgivable! You knew that! If anyone knows, you will be sent to Azkaban!"

"I only chose the lesser evil between the bad and the worse." She replied, almost coldly. A surprised look appeared on Dumbledore's face, "Please give me back my wand."

"Ah, no can do, I am afraid. Not until we establish you as non-threat." Dumbledore said.

Without a word, Hermione summoned her wand, snatching the wand from his grasp into hers' much to Albus' surprise.

"Wandless magic." He said impressively, "Quite a feat for a young age."

She frowned, young age? Maybe you can count seventeen being young when you have lived as long as professor Dumbledore.

Ginny! Hermione turned around; spotting the familiar red colour spread open like angel's halo next to her bed and couldn't help but gasp. Ginny looked…like a child!

She grabbed a nearby mirror on the bedside table, realising her features were identical to her eleven year old self. No. It can't be. She only turned the time-turner to 1938, how was it that she turned back to her eleven year old self?! Albus took this moment of distraction to summon her wand from her hand once again and her eyes soon took on a cold façade like a predator bearing its teeth.

"I shall give you back the wand as soon as we have a small talk." Dumbledore said, "Where are you from? How were you able to apparate into the Hogwarts despite the ward?"

Wordlessly, she took out her beaded bag, shovelling through the objects before taking out several tubes containing silvery-blue liquids.

"Here." She handed it to him, her arms trembling as the result of the atrophy, "This will explain everything. Now give me back my wand."

She was being disrespectful and rude to her former respected professor but the war had made her like this. Instead of 'please' or 'thank you', she learnt, to gain something one must demand.

Her attention shifted to Ginny more than anything, hurriedly standing up she felt herself orbiting the room and becoming light-headed before collapsing on the floor with audible 'thud'. She tried standing up but so hopelessly collapsed on the floor, again and again, and again…until her body lay sprawled on the floor.

Dumbledore knelt to give assistance but Hermione grabbed onto the metal bed pole, pushing herself up and slowly approached Ginny's bed. He noticed she hunched over the unconscious girl, almost protectively. There was a look that struck fear to those who dared to touch the unconscious girl, the maternal instinct resurfacing with ferocity. But Dumbledore was not at all deferred from castigating her.

"The spell you cast to Tom…you know the dangerous consequence of it." Dumbledore glowered, "It was a very heinous act. That spell is not something one can say so easily! Foolish girl!"

"What I want to know is whether you will alert the Ministry about it." She cut him sharply, "But I suggest you make that decision after you see this." She pointed to the vial Dumbledore held.

"..I will not." Dumbledore said after a moment of pause, "On account you won't do this again. Casting—"

Hermione put her index over her lip, "Shh!" Dumbledore looked at her, puzzled.

"Someone's listening to us."

Tom glared at Alphard who had slipped while leaning in too close, but even so the sound was silent enough to go unheard however this girl as clearly on her guard. The door to the hospital wing shut with a loud bang, deafening any sounds they could hope to hear.

"Well at least we learnt something." Alphard started, hoping he would not be at the wrong end of their hexes.

"Which is?" Abraxas looked at Alphard expectedly that told him one wrong answer could trigger the Malfoy's wrath.

"That the girl is dangerous and she actually casted the killing curse."

"Not to mention professor Dumbledore hiding the act." Alistair added in disgust, although not out of the man's dubious moral reasoning but the fact a man known for his philosophical encouragement to everything the pureblood stood against.

"What shall we do, Tom?" They all looked at him.

Tom leaned against the wall lazily, "What we always do. Play oblivious."

"But she tried to kill you!" Alfred reminded, "I mean we know professor Dumbledore didn't like you since the first day but this is too much!"

"Leave it." Tom shrugged, "I'm still alive, aren't I?"

* * *

><p>"Ugh!" Hermione coughed up the remaining bile, using water to gaggle the acidic taste from her mouth into the bucket where her acidic content of her stomach laid.<p>

It was first cardinal rule that one must be-careful of avoiding refeeding syndrome and solid food till later on but her body was even rejecting any liquid diet, refusing to stay in her stomach no more than five minute of eating.

On the other hand, Ginny seemed to be doing well more than her. After few days in the hospital wing, her dry, cracked skin from dehydration was smooth and flawless, her eyes held those mischievous glints she had from the moment they met and she even gained reasonable weight that she no longer looked like a walking skeleton.

Well, it wasn't same for Hermione though. She looked reasonably better than how she looked from their arrival but her skin was still dry with some cracks, less prominent dark circles and slight weight gain. Still, it was better than none.

Her eyes landed on the broken pieces of the time-turner upon the table, hopelessly beyond repair and effectively stranding them in this era. Dumbledore had collected the fragments and given to Hermione and she felt her heart shatter at the sight of her only way ticket back to home. Home…if there was anything left of it.

"Hey." Hermione turned around; knowing the ambiguous term was addressed to her. After-all, she and Ginny (who was sleeping and anyone with eyes would know better than say, 'Hey' to someone asleep) were the only occupants in the hospital wing.

It was a boy, 11, dark eyes and dark hair with familiar classical good looks.

"Hello." He cheerfully greeted.

She looked at him quietly.

The silence must have caught him off guard but he quickly brushed it off as perceived shyness or introversion.

"What's your name?"

She tilted her head, "Why?"

"I'm only asking your name. Isn't that how strangers greet one another to get to know each other?"

"_**They made Herm-her name a taboo."**_

"_**We have no choice…"**_

"_**I'm sorry…"**_

"My name is of no importance." Hermione dismissed, "What about you? Do you remember your true name?"

The question was ambiguous and to some extent, bizarre. Name. Something so small and insignificant, it was something you could live without but it was what made one a person. An individual. A human. Something that set you apart from others next to you and something that could be used to incur fear and terror or love and warmth into a person's heart.

"My name is Alphard Black." Was his answer.

_How lucky, _Hermione thought, _how envious…the way you say it without any hesitation or fear because it belongs to you and you only. And how you don't appreciate it at all._

"….H.." Her voice wouldn't come out, no; it won't form her name, "Her…Hermione."

_How long has it been since I abandoned that __name__?_

"Your surname as well." He added.

Hermione realised what this was about. He would, like any other purebloods, categorise her into 'friend/alley' and 'no significant being' piles.

"If you're wondering what I am, a mudblood." There was neither hesitancy nor hurt in her face when she said this - said it as blunt as you would say 'hello'.

Alphard eyes widened to the size of a saucer, "W-wh-?"

"Isn't that how you purebloods call my kind?"

He cleared his throat, "Um..so you're muggle-born. Well, great! So which school do you go to?"

"None." Hermione answered, her eyes staring into long distance.

"Where do you live?"

"Nowhere."

"Parent?"

"Dead." Alphard blinked at the blunt answer, "I'm sorry for your loss..."

"Friends?" He asked after few minutes of silence.

"…Dead but one."

"Favorite food?"

"None."

"Favorite drink?"

"None"

"Any grudge toward anyone?"

"Many. Don't you?" Hermione asked, catching the Black heir off guard with her callous answer.

"Do you know Tom Riddle?" Alphard inquired, eyes narrowed and all the playful expression gone.

"Clarify 'know'."

"The one you cast the killing curse."

"I didn't."

"Yes you did. I know the incantation."

"Then you're just as guilty as I am, aren't you?"

"Are you really 11?" He teased.

"Are you?"

"You're different from other girls."

"Every girl is different from one another."

Alphard sighed, any question he asked was answered by more ambiguous ones, "Won't you give me at least one clear answer?"

"I don't see any reason to." Hermione replied dismissively, "After-all, you're just a stranger."

"I'm hurt."

"Good." There was something unsettling when she said this because the answer seemed supposedly sarcastic yet the tone said otherwise as if she wanted it to hurt him as much as she can.

There was an awkward silent, Alphard being speechless to ask anymore question. Then his eyes landed to the girl sleeping next to Hermione, "Who is she? Your friend?"

"Yes. She's like my sister, and therefore one half of me."

"Is she a muggle-born as well?"

"Pureblood." Hermione revealed, "Not all purebloods are prejudice."

"Is she a Weasley? She has their features."

"No." She lied, "Who she is, you'll hear directly from her."

"For someone who lost everyone dear to you, you don't seem sad."

"Do you think the only way to express sadness is through tears? Do you think crying with tears is really crying? When your soul is in intense pain, tears won't come out." Hermione said, "Even if you feel like you'll be so bitterly sad to part, it's human nature for that sorrow to keep you alive."

Alphard coughed, he didn't know whether this girl was a child prodigy or just mature to the point of blunt and deep – philosophically.

"Aren't you going to eat?" He noted to the barely touched soup, "Madame Howard was telling you, you must eat."

"I'm used to going without food for long period." She shrugged, "Don't you have any lessons?"

"Ah, Merlin! I forgot!" Alphard stood up, "I'll visit again!"

"Please don't." Hermione deadpanned.

"This is exactly why I'm coming again."

* * *

><p>"So?" Tom muttered, flicking through the textbook he read and studied hundred times before.<p>

"Um.." Alphard struggled to start, "She doesn't really reveal anything about herself."

"Her parent?" Abraxas asked.

"Dead."

"Where does she live?" Lestrange asked.

"Nowhere." The four looked at him as if he were some idiot, "What? That's the only answer she gave me. I even asked her what her favourite food or drink was to which she answered 'None'."

"More importantly, what is she?" Mulciber asked.

"Well, she's muggle-born," Alphard started, "But it's weird..she called herself mudblood. Rather strange, isn't it?"

"At least she knows her place right, Tom?" Avery said.

Tom shrugged.

"Oh and she denied trying to kill you by the way." Alphard reported.

"Doesn't everyone?" Abraxas rolled his eyes, "Just because you're stupid, doesn't mean everyone is."

"I am not!" Alphard retorted angrily.

"Alphard Black! Detention!" Professor Merrythought huffed in irritation, "If you don't have a good mark in Defense against the Dark Arts, you should at least make an effort to focus!"

Alphard groaned, burying his head in his arm, "I already have two!"

The gang snorted with laughter, Tom slightly chuckling before focusing on the lesson once more.

* * *

><p>Hermione had buried herself in the book, only to look up when a shadow fell on the pages to see the grinning Black wizard.<p>

"I guess you're staying than." He noted to the Hogwarts curriculum textbook in her hands. As usual, she greeted with a blank countenance and went back to her book.

"Hermione, who's this?" Ginny asked curiously.

Hermione shrugged, "Some random person who decided to acquaint himself with strangers."

Alphard pouted, "Hey, we're going to be a fellow student soon. I'm Alphard Black."

Ginny studied his features and muttered a realising, "Oh…I'm Ginny Brown. Nice to meet you."

He nodded at her in acknowledgement. Alphard sat beside her bed in silent and studied her shaking fingers barely managing to turn the pages. Hermione's brows furrowed with forced effort to focus on the texts only to drop the book in exasperation.

Alphard mistook this as unintentional drop, reaching his arm out to pick it up for her when Hermione flinched away from his oncoming contact, startling the boy.

She hugs her knees, shielding herself from him with hostile glare, "Don't touch me!"

He regards her with shock at her outburst as she venomously spat, "I _hate_ the purebloods the most."

Ginny's expression darkens, softly calling her name, "Hermione…"

Alphard whole body placid, baffled with bewilder and not knowing what to do at her vindictive declaration.

Ginny gave him a sympathetic look, "I'm sorry –"

"Why are you sorry for?!" Hermione snapped, directing her glares to Ginny albeit unintentionally, "What did we do so wrong we have to ask for forgiveness?!"

"Hermione!"

Hermione jumps a little, as if she herself was shocked by her sudden display of hostility, giving Alphard an apologetic glance, she looked away to stare at her trembling fist.

"I'm…" She gulped, words stuck in her throat, "…sorry."

"No, it's…okay." He managed to say, "Um…I think it would be a good idea if I go…I'll um…come…" He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence of their next meeting.

Heavy silent hung in the air like suffocating darkness, squeezing the occupants' lung dry of its life giving oxygen and pricking their fast beating hearts with invisible thorns. Despite their initial closeness of the bed, Ginny felt she and Hermione existed in parallel universe, only able to helplessly look on as each other sank into their own abyss.

Ginny understood where Hermione's hatred for magic and everything in-between stemmed from. They had to be blissfully ignorant to not understand the obvious result of such maltreatment. It was why Ginny did not have the heart to berate her.

"Aren't you going to eat?" She jerked her head to the untouched food, now cold.

"I'm not hungry."

* * *

><p>Hermione checked her uniform in the full length mirror. Smiling in satisfaction at the impeccable appearance, she looked at Ginny who was eating away some chocolates.<p>

"Slytherin, right?"

"Slytherin." Hermione confirmed, "Remember: do not stay in one place for too long. Do not own anything. Do not form any relationships. Don't trust anyone."

The Weasley witch nodded firmly.

Her hair was wild and bushy as it was in her first year (well, her physical body was technically that of her first year) and her teeth was too big for her mouth but she didn't care. She didn't need to give any attention to her appearance more than necessary when she knows her blood status alone would make her the target of the year. No amount of magic was going to change that.

While Hermione decided to keep her surname, Ginny had to change her's to Brown. Wouldn't want her ancestors shocked at finding their future grandchildren appearing out of blue. Too much questions.

While professor Dumbledore was aware of their true origin and intentions, Headmaster Dippet only knew them as unfortunate victims of Nazism. Their parent so brave and righteous to fight for the Jewish rights and safety and them stuck in between the political brawl which resulted in the assassination of their parent and later attempts on them. Forced out onto streets, their only worries were where their next meal will come from.

The moment they entered the hall, all the eyes were them. Ginny and Hermione felt like the first time they entered the great hall, its beauty never fails to bring awe but somehow there was certain element of numbness to it because it also reminded them the war and its effect on their emotions.

Finding bodies there and there, Hermione could exactly locate those places even now. That land used to be a peaceful place covered in green fields. Now there is only dry, immense desert...she wants to bring the green back...

Hermione stopped when she saw the familiar red colours sticking out of the Gryffindor table like a sore thumb and a boy sitting next to them. Ron's and Harry's ancestors. Ginny noticed Hermione's sudden halt and followed the direction of her stare, freezing at the sight of her own bloodline.

Tears threatened to fall when Hermione's eyes landed on the young professor McGonagall, happily chatting away as if she had no cares in the world. She, unlike her future self, did not possess the strict-looking demeanour.

Ginny yelled out something, quickly clamping her mouth shut before she blurted out anything that might cause confusion amongst them. The students looked at them weirdly when they were not moving for a good few minutes staring at particular group as if a mother found her lost child.

Noticing the silence and odd stares, the two quickly stepped toward the front where a stool laid, awaiting.

Hermione was the first to sit on the chair as the sorting hat was place upon her head but not before exchanging brief glance with professor Dumbledore. They had yet to discuss about the things he saw in the pensieve.

"Hmm.." The sorting hat pondered, "Interesting…well, disappointing is the word. You've certainly mellowed out... you used to be fun, full of life and emotion. Lust, Greed, Sloth, Gluttony, Envy, Wrath, and Pride. Of course, excessive want will destroy anyone, but those same desires are necessary to understand what it means to be human. Why did you rid yourself of them?"

Hermione didn't reply.

"Oh…so you came to do that..." He chuckled as he delve deeper into her head, "And being sorted into Slytherin makes it easier…oh well, it's certainly against my conscience but I, too, believe in greater good. SLYTHERIN!"

There was a hushed murmur in the Slytherin section, before sound of disgust erupted amongst the students. Their house proud for having only Purebloods and in rare cases, Half-blood, but a mudblood?! Immediately, few students voiced out their disagreements, stating that the hat has lost its mind.

Hermione's eyes didn't waver, eyes glaring at the whole in killing intents. It was clear to those sharp enough to realise she was the one looking down upon them as a superior being, not them. She stepped down, marching toward the Slytherin table with her head held high.

Hermione saw Alphard waving and pointing to the empty two seats next to him; undoubtedly he somehow guessed she and Ginny would be sorted into Slytherin. Ginny was sorted in Slytherin soon after, taking seat next to Alphard much to Malfoy's dismay of her status as blood traitor. Nothing was worse than betraying your own kind, she guessed.

"Nice to see you again, you look good." Alphard commented, seemingly forgotten of their altercation prior before, "You looked like a skeleton last time. You still kind of do but at least you look like a person. Let me introduce you to my friends..."

"I know who they are." Hermione interrupted.

Alphard raised one of his aristocratic brow in amusement, "You do?"

"Abraxas Malfoy, Alistair Lestrange, Alfred Avery…and Tom Riddle."

"Did you stalked us or something?" Alphard teased, "How did you know?"

She shrugged, "...Intuition." Tom's eyes narrowed slightly, for some reason he knew she was lying. He didn't know how, but he knew she told no truth. And he didn't like her. Not at all.

He could see the unhidden malice in her eyes, full of complexity that hinted there was more to her than she was telling. He knew that because that's how he saw others as well only he was unaware of its extent and depth.

The dinner was a tense situation; everyone busy eating while glaring daggers at Hermione as she sat motionlessly, eyes glazed with thoughts as the plate of food placed in front of her became colder despite Ginny's urge for her to eat something.

* * *

><p>The fire in the fireplace flickered in the empty dark dungeon, the green colour of the common room seemed more like black from the combination of lacking light and the dark water. It was a grand palace-like room to exhibit the greatness of the Salzar Slytherin but it lacked the warmth to call it a home. It was that coldness that made Hermione all but lonely even more.<p>

"_**Harry! Ron!"**_

"_**KYAHH!"**_

Hermione shut her eyes painfully; the flashback came with binding lights like camera flashes and clasped her ears to block out the screams. Her whole body trembled and eyes moved rapidly under her lid.

She didn't notice a small hand approaching to touch her shoulder and when it did, Hermione grabbed it before twisting it painfully behind the perpetrator's back, "Expelliarmus!"

The trays and the food came clanging down to the floor, Ginny screaming in pain from the twist, "Ow, ow, ow! Hermione it's me!"

Hermione gasped, letting the brutal grip go immediately, "I-I'm sorry! Are you alright, Ginny?" She knelt down, attempting to pick up the plates and foods that have spoiled the carpet.

"I-I don't—"Her hands frantically grabbed whatever it was until Ginny grabbed her hand.

"Hermione, it's OK." She comforted, finally finding the courage inside her to confront their reality, "After what we went through…no one can come out with same normality as it were before and expect us to get used to this kind of peace just like that."

This was when Hermione broke down, sob escaping her throat as Ginny wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled her down to her chest.

"Save me." She pleaded, "I feel like I'm dying. Every day, I feel like I'm going to die. I'm just barely hanging on. I live because I can't die. I… I… every time I slept, I was always fearful they will catch us. There was a time I wanted to kill _them_ then myself" Ginny closed her eyes, knowing 'them' Hermione was referring to was Harry and Ron to save themselves from the despair, "— you don't know that, do you? I even held a knife. But every time I heard the list of people's names, I sharpened the knife to cut off their hands that held the wands that killed them. That young teenage girl fantasised all sorts of things about cutting off those hands. Do you know that?"

"I understand…I understand. It was hard for you. It's hard for me too." Ginny's lip trembled, "Even if it's too heavy, or too cruel, or too sad, I hope that the only thing you can do isn't to get hurt."

"Why is she crying?" Alphard asked in confusion, pity in his eyes from behind the large book case.

"Just shut up, Black." Abraxas hissed.

"Loly," Ginny called and a house-elf appeared, "Yes, Miss?"

"Please get us another. We spilled them you see." She pointed to the mess on the floor as the house-elf clicked his finger to clean it up.

"Of course, Miss." With that, the house-elf disappeared to get more food.

"I told you I don't want any food." Hermione sniffed, swallowing the tears, "But why do you keep on bringing them."

Ginny smiled softly, "Even though you don't have the appetite, you should eat to regain your strength."

There was a large pop and the house-elf handed them a plate of warm food, "Here you go, Miss. Is there anything else?"

"No, thank you, Loly."

"Thank you." Hermione didn't forget to thank her.

The house-elf seems to be surprised at the fair and kind treatment the two students gave them, particularly from the Slytherin house.

"Please call me if you need me." She said enthusiastically before disappearing.

Ginny sat up the food on the table, picking up the spoon and guided Hermione's wrist to grab it, "Come on, you love this dish! You could eat them three times and you'll still be hungry!"

Hermione wearily put the soup in her mouth, feeling the warm sensation running down her throat in pleasant tingle.

"It's good." She couldn't help but smile. Even if it was small.

"See?" Ginny smirked, "You LOVE toast and soup!"

The Slytherin gangs were all filled with curiosity as each tried to see behind the large book cases but it was obvious who the leader was. Even if they were fighting for the small space to clearly catch the scene, the space around Tom was ample enough for them all to see without having to fight for it. Tom frowned in displease, he hated the sound of crying. It was despicable sign of weakness and vulnerability. With disgust, he shrugged himself away from his 'friends' before going back to read, 'Curses and Counter-Curses' he found in the library.

* * *

><p>"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." — Confucius<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: For the story sake, I'm disregarding the 1930s-40s manners expected such as segregation between interactions of opposite genders and 'feminine' subjects taught for females (e.g sewing) etc. However, I'll show the expectations expected for females during those times through other characters and touch on it barely so if there's anything amiss in the story regarding the timeline, do forgive me.**

**Also, no young lady or older woman would be addressed as Ms., as that form of address would only gain popularity in the 1970s. Furthermore, it appears as if it is still not in use in the Wizarding World.**

**Please leave your thoughts and feedback in the review! See you soon!**


	2. God's gift – Time

Thorn Bird

Chapter II:

God's gift – Time

Summary: Hermione and Ginny dangerously dangled at the edge of the cliff; coming face to face with the Dark Lord she unleashes the diatribe, "No victory lasts forever. The war can be started again by those who seek victory. It may appear reckless. One layer of an egg's shell, cast against a stone will surely break. But no matter how strong a stone, it is dead. And no matter how weak an egg, it is alive. When time passes a stone will crumble into dirt. But someday there is a chick who will hatch from that egg and walk upon that dirt. The day will come when your murderous tyranny and oppression cannot defeat that egg." Then they jumped.

* * *

><p>Her twisted fate shakes the world.<p>

* * *

><p>Thank you guys for those who reviewed and alerted my story:<p>

**darkangel**- Thank you sister! There will be lot of angst and revenge in this story! A bit different from most of my other stories which protagonists tend to uphold righteous moral and justice. I'll also be adding psychological profiles of Tom Riddle aka Voldemort through Hermione's narrations so we can get to know more about this rather mysterious character. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

**LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL**- Thank you! Enjoy this chapter too!

**Guest****#1**- Yes its good thing you've brought up about Hermione and Ginny going back to young Tom Riddle era. Majority of the stories I've read and seen seems to be Hermione going back to Riddle's 6th or 7th year although I think this was deliberate so Hermione and Tom's romance could bloom and to make sure anything they do won't be controversial in terms of age. But if one were to change someone, I'd choose to go back to their childhood. Why? Childhood is a powerful 'biological' window you could say because children are so malleable and prone to surrounding influences so it would only make sense that anyone trying to change evil dark lord, a childhood would be a more reasonable choice. Also, I believe Lord Voldemort's childhood was what made him the way he was today and Tom Riddle in his 6th/7th year would probably 'fixed' in terms of his personality; not irreversible but it would be very hard to change a person who've realised his true self (this is why psychologists/psychiatrist cannot diagnose a child as sociopath/psychopath till the age of 18 because children are, as controversial as it may be and this is a quotation of someone else, children are sociopath). Whew, this became a very long ramble hehe, anywho hope you enjoy this chapter!

Angelic Reprobate- Aww thank you XD! Here's more! Hope you like it!

**cuteangel1**- Thank you! Enjoy this chapter!

**Doctor Writer M.D**- I'm really flattered! Thanks so much! It's probably the best thing anyone could say really haha! Enjoy this and Pandora is nearly at its finishing stage.

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>While the girl is asleep, an angel of death took the boy she loved. While the girl was wondering in the woods, the goddess of night told her, 'Do you want to find the boy? Give me your beautiful hair then. Then I will tell you where the angel of death went.' Without a hesitant, she cut her long hair and gave it to the night. Next, a thorn bush blocked the girl. 'Do you want to find the boy? Then hold me tight with your warm body. Then I will tell you where the angel of death went.' Without a hesitant, the girl embraced the sharp thorns of the bush. Finally, the girl saw the angel of death holding the boy. But a lake appeared in front of her. 'Do you want to find the boy?' Give me your beautiful eyes to me, and I will help you cross this lake.' Without any hesitation…she took her eyes out and threw them in the lake.'"<strong>_

"_**So? Did she find the boy? Did she save him?"**_

* * *

><p>"<strong>It is impossible to suffer without making someone pay for it; every complaint already contains revenge." <strong>—**Friedrich Nietzsche**

* * *

><p><strong>Late November, 1938.<strong>

Her eyes drooped tiredly yet she knew if she closed her eyes, sleep would not come. How can they when the palpitation was continuously releasing adrenaline into her body? Sleep deprivation and insomnia were no uncommon occurrences in war-torn era. It was even perhaps advantageous symptoms in a world where a smallest vulnerability could result in serious consequences.

However, in a world where Hermione should know she was 'safe' in a degree, these symptoms were maladaptive. She could see Ginny struggling to get the restorative sleep she needs, often drifting between wakefulness and light sleep throughout the night.

She checked the time, its arm reading 5AM. She slowly stood up, her muscle sore and aching from the lack of restorative REM. It didn't matter; she was used to the pain.

Hermione sluggishly entered the bathroom, using the walls as support while her dominant hand had tight grab on the wand. It was a habit she developed in her fugitive state and a habit that was hard to fix.

She turned the tap on, cold water trailing down the nozzle and chasing the sleepiness away. Hermione let the cold water slide down her arms and legs, ignoring the stabbing pain of her muscles and just relishing under the water and cleanliness she hasn't felt for a very long time.

It must be an hour later when she heard muffled rustle and blather from the other side as one by one arose from the deep slumber. Hermione missed that — the feeling of obliviousness to your surrounding as you sleep, the amnesia of sleep onset latency.

Girls rushed in, towels in their hand and cosmetic in another. Hermione ignored the disgusted look shot toward her and continued to wash her hair and body as quickly as she could.

"She looks like some gangling skeleton." One of them giggled to Annette Greengrass who in turn eyed Hermione disdainfully as if viewing a bug crawling on her expensive silk dress.

"What can you expect from a poor mudblood. She probably was eating mud and bugs before coming here."

"Eww, just how low those things could get?"

"Apparently very low." Annette grinned, erupting laughter from most of her roommates as reward.

Those few who were nonchalant were either who had no interest toward Hermione in general or hated Annette.

Then Annette, who was sharp despite general reflection of herself to others, noticed the wand resting against the shower pipe line.

"Is that your wand?!" Annette screeched with flabbergast and almost immediately all turned their eyes on the object of problem.

"Are you trying to attack us while we're washing?!" Annette screamed, "See, I told you mudbloods are nothing but blood thirsty savages!"

Ignoring Annette and her gang, she quickly closed off the tap, grabbed her towel and wand before hurrying out as their taunting laughter floated back to the room by the air.

"Are you OK?" Ginny asked, concerned.

"Yeah." Hermione murmured, retrieving her neatly folded uniform. Her area was orderly and immaculate but simple and void of any feminine objects compared to other girls' area around them. It was a stark contrast.

"You didn't sleep?" Ginny noted the heavy bag under her eyes, almost a statement than a question.

"You too."

"I slept for few hours," Ginny replied, "But you look as if you were awake the whole time."

"Don't worry."

_How could I not? _Ginny bitterly thought, watching Hermione's back.

* * *

><p>Her first lesson as first year was Potions. As usual, she was the first one to arrive in the classroom…well, that's what she thought when she saw the classroom was already inhibited. Her eyes landed on the far left corner where Slytherin favored to sit and saw the familiar gangs had already made themselves comfortable.<p>

"Hermione, over here!" Alphard waved, pointing to the seat next to him. He was keen on making sure to keep Hermione happy after seeing her yesterday. He never thought an 11-year old could make those kinds of expressions or even feel that kind of sorrow. It was because of that he ignored the glares and Malfoy elbowing the side of his rib for inviting a mudblood to sit next to them.

She wordlessly sat next to Alphard, "Hello." She greeted to the group.

Only Alphard acknowledged and returned her greetings.

"So I heard about this morning." Alphard started, ignoring the continuous glares waving off from his friends for associating with the like of her, "That you nearly attacked Annette Greengrass?"

"You attacked Greengrass?" Lestrange blurted out in shock.

Alphard looked at them puzzled who returned the same look, "Don't tell me I'm the only one who knows this in this group? Annette has been saying how Hermione was pointing her wand and trying to kill her or something in the bathroom. She's been shouting and sobbing, actually; it's hard to miss. So well..?"

"I didn't attack her." Hermione clarified, "I only took my wand into the bathroom."

"Why would you even take your wand into the—" Alphard attempted to ask before being interrupted by Malfoy.

"That's not how she's going around saying, isn't it?" Abraxas sneered, "Who would trust a mudblood over a pureblood? You attacked Tom with _that_ spell, didn't you? What makes us think you can't do it twice."

That gets Hermione fired up, and she confront them on her innocence: "The heavens and earth know it, I know it, and Annette knows it too. So I'm okay. I don't care whether you believe me or not. I don't even know why I have to explain such an absurd situation to you. I don't care if you hate me. However, I can't tolerate you telling me I am wrong. This isn't the truth. People who are too lazy to look for the truth have no right to blame the person who lies. If at least one person knows the truth, that's enough."

That made Malfoy speechless, too shocked and surprise to even muster an answer. Tom raised a brow but otherwise said nothing as the class soon began to fill up with people arriving for their lessons.

"You're not eleven." Alphard persisted, "I don't think I ever met a girl like you."

She only gave him a cold look, "There's a first time for everything, I suppose."

Ginny arrived with the crowd, approaching the gangs wearily when she noticed Hermione was among them and saw the darkness under her eyes was hidden with magic.

The 11 year old Weasley greeted with a small, timid, "Hello."

Alphard gave her a cheerful one while others were less enthusiastic to greet a blood-traitor.

Ginny quickly jotting down series of apparent random numbers, something Tom noticed out of the corner of his eyes and slid it across Hermione.

It looked random and probably the only thing that an average-intelligent person would see the number had certain pattern that there's always a '5' before the zeroes. She chose this because it was a muggle mathematical theories and being placed in Slytherin, famous for having a very, very few, if at all, muggle throughout the history who would even know this mathematical law and full of ignorant purebloods and half-bloods included, no one would be able to crack this code.

Having 5 before the zeroes meant the numbers are multiple of 2 and 5 and adding the digit before the zeroes result in the multiple of 3 which meant the number itself is a multiple of 3. 2, 3 and 5; all which are prime numbers.

To figure out the code, one must decompose the numbers in prime factors. Any numbers has only one way in which it can be decomposed in its prime factors. This was what Hermione used. The important thing was the exponent of the base where each number represented one of the 26 letters of the alphabet. Even though most people don't realise it, everything in this world operates according to the laws of mathematics. This was why Hermione loved Arithmancy. In the beginning, she wonders how to solve it. After she study and follow through, there's a solution. It's simple, but it's still a wonder.

What Ginny wrote was, 'See professor Dumbledore after DADA.' As a first year, they only had two lessons on Monday and that meant plenty of free periods.

"Now, now, settle down children!" Much younger Horace Slughorn, with his thick, shiny, straw-coloured hair and his gingery-blond moustache waved his hand in the air to instruct the first year to sit down. He was not quite as rotund as the Slughorn Hermione knew, though the golden buttons on his richly embroidered waistcoat were taking a fair amount of strain.

"We learnt aconite, bezoars, and some basic detail on the Draught of the Living Dead preparation last lesson— if most of you can still remember. When? We studied them for two months since you attended this school; why? It's part of the first year curriculum; how? There's a reason why you had textbook to go away and revise over; if you still cannot remember, I suggest you go to Madame Howard for it." The classroom broke out in laughter, Hermione smiled, finding class banter like this nostalgic.

"Today," He started, "We will learn to brew Boil cures. I know it might be like asking you to recite the whole text book but who can tell me what the Boil cures does?"

Surprisingly, only one had shot up, one that belonged to Hermione — and it was a motion that was an impulse, a habit —Professor Slughorn gave her an impressed nod before addressing to the class, "Anyone other than I bet Mr. Riddle and our new student?"

Silence.

"Oh, dear, if the new student knows what it is, you guys who had head start must **all** know!" He looked around, hearing only awkward coughs and shifts.

He sighed before pointing to the new student, "Tom always seems to know the answer from the start without fail, but let's ask the new student this time uh…?"

"Hermione Granger, Sir." She replied her voice neutral and lacking the high pitched prideful tone, "Boil cures are effective remedies against pustules, hives, boils and many other scrofulous conditions. This is a robust potion of powerful character. Care should be taken when brewing. Prepared incorrectly this potion has been known to cause boils, rather than cure them."

Alphard, who had the textbook open to the page, knowing he in a million years would not even remember what he ate yesterday; looked at Hermione as if she just turned into a troll, showing his friends the wording of the book, "She actually just recited that! She recited exactly what the book said! I mean who does that? Well, except you, Tom. What?"

"Excellent!" Professor Slughorn clapped and congratulated with cheerfulness (probably because his own House obtained another potential student) that superseded even the most youthful children, "10 points to the Slytherin!"

"..Bookworm." Hermione heard Annette whisper (more like shout for everyone to hear) to her friends.

At least she has a brain to actually live her life with meanings.

Tom stared at the new girl with slight fascination, but anyone who read the textbook ahead could easily recite the words. He had already memorised the third year textbooks. Malfoy, Lestrange and Avery looked grudgingly impressed at her knowledge, only slightly acknowledging it.

Tom and Hermione were paired together, something she suspected the professor did it on deliberation to make sure the potion's outcomes was as best as it could be but she wondered if the professor wanted her killed as well because the girls who was literally threatening the professor to pair them up with Tom was seething and she could literally feel the smell of death emitting from them.

While Tom gathered the ingredients, Hermione set up the cauldron but it was obvious the two preferred working alone.

She glanced at the future Dark Lord, noticing even as a child he was handsome and attractive.

"I'm Hermione." She swallowed up the thought to kill him while he was this young and 'weak', remembering Harry's desire to save him…as impossible as it sounds. Everyone deserved a second chance. That was the only thing that kept her from losing it.

He looked at her coldly before returning to crushing the snake fangs into fine powder with brief, "Tom."

"According to common knowledge, manners are the best weapon to live a meaningful life." Hermione chided for ignoring her hand that was waiting to be shook.

This time, he looked up to scan her. It was brief but it was longer than any time he cared to look at her.

"Perhaps to you, however I believe looking after ones' self is also a best weapon to live a meaningful life." He smirked mockingly at her.

It was as if dam had broken, unleashing its hell inside and she felt her heart become engulfed by hatred. It wasn't his insult to her physical appearance nor the realisation that people like Tom Riddle don't change easily and won't change so easily either, it was everything. The things she went through, felt and saw, was all because of this _child_ in front of her who acted as if hurting people meant nothing to him.

Gritting her teeth, she bit back, "What's with you? You judge a person by their appearance and crush them. You think you're that cool?" Tom raised a brow in amusement.

"You're good-looking and popular, so you think you're pretty great, right?" She sneered, her hair seemed to crackle with electricity, "Someone so mean, ruse and distasteful, I don't know why they run around obsessing over a guy like you. They need to get their eyes checked; there is something wrong with their eyes."

Alphard dropped his knife, nearly slicing Malfoy's wrist; Ginny's potion exploded when she was too shocked to see the fine powder in her hand was slipping down like sand; Lestrange and Avery jaws reached the floor and seemed to have forgotten their potion was turning dreadful black from their neglect.

Professor noticed there was a silent in the corner of his classroom but took no special note of it, turning around to help another student who seems to be adding the ingredient… backward. Oh dear.

Tom's fandom's eyes were frozen wide and their mouth gaped open at hearing Hermione's harangue. Hermione noticed they seem to have strayed away from Riddle.

It wasn't after several minute did Hermione hear the sharpening of the knives from the fan girls' table and the familiar rustle of wooden wand being taken out of their hold but Hermione wasn't fazed. Not at all.

Why would she? She went through the hell experience of war. Those foolish, obsessed girls throwing tantrum when things didn't go their way were nothing but child play.

Hermione used this moment to see through Riddle's mind using Legilimency, seeing him using his powers to hang the boy's rabbit from the rafters and the one occasion, he took two orphans, Dennis Bishop and Amy Benson, into a cave, where he performed an act so horrifying that the two orphans were traumatised into silence. Now those horrible things were directed toward Hermione.

"Why? Want to hang me from the rafters? Or do you want to take your time in the cave?" She challenged, unfazed.

This time it was Riddle's turn to be shocked. His eyes slightly widened, the corner of his lip twitched either from fear or hatred and the hand that grabbed the knife slightly twitched as if he wished to stab her now and then.

But he managed to suppress the monstrous expression, "I apologise for offending you, Hermione. That was not my intention, at all."

The group of girls all gasped at Tom's 'dignified' action toward the 'filthy mudblood', even addressing her by her given name. They began to moan and verbally abusing Hermione on behalf of Tom. This was of course, all part of Tom's way of striking back at her and it angered her more that they were completely blinded to it. Justice is far away, yet violence is right next door.

"Look at me." Hermione coldly ordered and he did look at her, "I'll show you that your mistake can kill a person easily. Whoever you are, however you laugh, however you smile, whatever your name is, none of it matters now. Less than dust, less than a bug, you're nothing to me. Call my name or smile, just try it. Then I'll just…kill you."

Ginny quickly grabbed Hermione's arm, "Come." Ginny quickly muttered an apology to the group before pulling her out of the classroom in a whirlwind, telling an excuse Hermione was getting sick and hurriedly marching out of the classroom before the professor could reply.

"Well, they could at least take their bags…the class is nearly over." Professor Slughorn muttered, looking at the group of boys on the table, "Black, Malfoy, take their bags to them, please."

Alphard wholeheartedly nodded, while Abraxas made a noise in the back of his throat with complete horror and disgust at having to touch a mudblood and blood-traitor's bag.

* * *

><p>Ginny pushed her into the wall, just few feet away from the classroom, "Are you insane?! What are you doing? What are you even thinking?!"<p>

"Revenge. When misdeed cuts this deep, someone has to pay."

"Harry said—"

"Don't misunderstand; do you think I'll change even if you're being like this?" Hermione revealed, "To catch a devil, you have to become the devil."

"An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. If we live with that kind of law, all the people in this world will become blind." Ginny retorted.

Hermione smiled though it was a bitter and cruel one, "There is one thing I want more than revenge. To go back as it were in the beginning. I didn't start this because I wanted to avenge them; I started because I wanted to be with them, you know but that might change soon. Right now, I'm only waiting for either him or me to kill each other. Did you forget, Ginny? Killing Myrtle just because she was muggle-born, murdering seven people to create horcruxes, murdering Harry's parent from fear of his own death, torturing Neville's parent into insanity that they can't even recognise their own son, taking away poor Mr Amos Diggory of his one and only prideful son, slaughtering the members of the Order of the Phoenix, the one that snatched our lives away, killed our families and friends, just for the sake of gaining power and immortality— Tom Marvolo Riddle." Hermione's heart clenched at the tears that began to form and drop down Ginny's freckled cheeks but those contemptful smile remained, "Just what will happen to him, even in my dream I feel happy. I want to destroy his life. If he had done the right thing, everyone would be alive. He chose not to, so down he goes."

Alphard and Abraxas headed toward the hospital ward, probably thinking the two would be there.

"I can't believe I have to carry a blood-traitor's bag…I need to disinfect my hands as soon as possible!"

Black merely rolled his eyes; he while with some prejudice to muggle-borns as a lowly being undeserved of magic, he thought this girl was different. She challenged his view of muggle-borns as some stupid, lazy animals indoctrinated in him since he was a mere baby. In fact, she was different from Pureblood girls too. He could see she was intelligent and magically capable than most other muggle-borns, even to some extents…few purebloods (much to his shock), her personality seemed interesting as well. They were about to turn comers when two mixed voice were heard, arguing.

Curious, they poke their heads and saw Hermione and Ginny Brown arguing in loud voice. Abraxas smirked, "Ah-ha, they're ditching—"

"Shh!" Black pulled him back, "I don't think it's a good idea to interrupt girls fighting. You saw Annette and her friends fighting!"

Abraxas pondered for a moment before hiding with Alphard as well, "Good idea…wrath of women..I can never understand them, fighting over Tom or some dress or something. Come, Alphard, let's go. They're probably fighting for spoiling the blood-traitor's chance of getting close to Tom or something."

Black sighed and nodded until something caught their attentions.

"You think I want to save him too?!" Ginny yelled, they stopped in their track and slightly poke their head out, "I hate him too! I despise him! I want to kill him every-time I see him! He killed my mum, my dad, and my brothers! He killed the man I love more than anything else, more than MY LIFE! But no matter how much you hate or how much you suffer, you can't bring the dead back to life. What good is revenge for? It won't bring the loved ones back, nor it would make them smile...why can't you see that, Hermione? Instead of being self-motivated, you just hold your grudges to a side, and only care about hating the world. You leave no possibility to see what chances you have in front of you."

"Revenge is best for healing." She bit out, Ginny's eyes widened to a size of a saucer, her lip trembling with fear, "Rather than feeling lancinating pain in my heart several hundred times a day, I prefer to die. When I get my revenge, I'll thank him for making me into a devil — a monster ten times, hundred times scarier than him, to become more unscrupulous and vicious devil, I'm endeavouring my best effort right now, while imagining our meeting in hell. I wonder if today, I'll finally kill him or he will kill me. He does want revenge for the humiliation I caused today, after-all. His dirty ambitions… let him go far as he wants. Even though, in the end, it will be fiery pits of hell no matter how much he runs."

"People will get hurt." Ginny muttered dreadfully.

"Sometimes the innocent get hurt. But one by one the guilty will pay. Nothing ever goes exactly as you expect. And the stakes are life and death. Collateral damage is inescapable."

With cold shrug of her shoulder, Hermione walked away, leaving three Purebloods in the state of complete shock.

* * *

><p>Hermione felt something tug behind her throat, realising the familiar creeping sensation that gurgle at her esophagus, she quickly clamped her mouth shut and ran toward the nearby bathroom but before she could make it, her lip were forced open and the barely containing stomach heaved out of her.<p>

Her throat gasped at the constricting motion, desperate for more air as Hermione wiped her lip of the residue with the back of her hand. If she could see herself now, what kind of expression would she have?

_What is this, Hermione…? _She asked herself, _Are_ y_ou really…trying to become a devil? Is that it?! No…no…it's not it!_

"Here." A voice gently said, as if he was afraid of surprising her with his sudden entrance "Rough day, huh?"

Looking up, she came eye to eye with the familiar dark orbs. It was Alphard and looking down at his hand, an expensive looking handkerchief with an elegant initial 'AB'.

"I don't need it." Hermione shot him down.

Beside she didn't need any more reason for the girls to have a go at her if they saw the handkerchief and she went through two years of not having necessities like tissues every time she vomited or bled from injuries or female monthly visit although it was hardly there. They used their parts of their clothes or whatever they could find. Surviving without any necessities have become like a habit.

"You aren't going to contaminate it, if that's what you mean." He said, thinking she was rejecting his help because of the fear she'll contaminate it with her 'mudblood touch'.

"I'm used to going without any of it." She explained, "Your help is appreciated, though."

Alphard wordlessly shoved it to her hand, "Use it."

She used legilimency to access his mind, realising his sudden cordial acts were due to pity of seeing her and Ginny fight. That was not good. He'll tell Riddle what he saw and this will trouble her. She waved her wand to clean up the mess before asking, "Can you turn around?"

Alphard frowned in confusion but did so. Hermione pointed her wand and silently casted 'Obliviate' in his specific memory, except the ones he got to see with his friends because it would be suspicious he were the only one who can't remember. That will cause too much suspicion. He'll have some gaps in his memory, Hermione concluded, but he was only 11, forgetful and laid back; he'll get over this issue. Now it's Malfoy who she needs to erase after.

"Well?" He called, "Can I turn around now?"

"Yes." She said, "I'll make sure your handkerchief get cleaned and give it back to you later."

"No, keep it." Alphard declined, "Consider it a gift."

"What use will I have of it?" She deadpanned.

"Um..normally, girls die from happiness if they received a gift from me."

"I'm not." She purposely left her reply ambiguous, whether he think she was not a girl or not one of those girls, it was up to him to decide.

"You're very hard to please for a muggle-born." Alphard raised his brow, "You take things seriously don't you?"

"If you think I'm hard to please, then you don't know people well."

He sighed before handing Hermione her bag, "Here, Professor wanted me to deliver this to you."

"Thank you." With that she turned and left.

Hermione ended up missing DADA and her meeting with professor Dumbledore.

* * *

><p>"…Y…Oy…Malfoy…ABRAXAS!"<p>

"What?!" Abraxas jumped out of his seat, "I'm not deaf! I can hear you!"

"Oh? So the five minutes I spent calling your name was just my imagination!?" Avery retorted, "What are you thinking?"

"Oh..no it's just…you know the mudblood?"

"Yes. I think everyone knows the mudblood you're talking about. I'd be surprised if they don't after that Potion class incident. Half the things those girls vowed to do…" He shivered at the imagination.

"Yes, it's just that…me and Black heard her.."

Riddle looked up, "Heard what?"

"Well, she said—she and that blood traitor were fighting about something. It wasn't about you, Tom, the blood traitor was upset because the mudblood wanted to take re—"

"Malfoy." The gangs turned, seeing Alphard and Hermione entering the common room but they were even more surprised when Hermione asked to see _him_.

"May I speak with you?"

Abraxas' brow shot up in surprise, pointing at himself in question, "Me? Why would I want to talk to a mudblood?!"

"It's important." She pleaded, "Please."

In normal circumstances, he would have said no however for some reason, he was compelled to listen to her after hearing her and the blood traitor conversation, he was…interested. What can he say? Malfoy men love women with mystery. Particularly, if they are on quest for revenge. There were certain melancholy charms those kinds of women displayed that were not seen on others. They were usually smart, beautiful, clever, deceitful, and cunning and held their own against men. And Abraxas loved challenges but sadly due to his family name and wealth, women flocked against him with never-ending numbers without putting up a single challenge.

He stood up, following Hermione to the deeper part of the room. When Hermione stopped, finding the perfect place that was obscured from others' eyes and empty, she turned.

Abraxas demanded the reason, "What do you want, mudblood? I'm busy."

"Just one thing." She said.

"That is?"

"Your memory."

"My what?"

Hermione casted the stunning spell, the jet of red light hit him in the middle of his chest: he froze, his arm stiff by his side, started to fall to the floor before Hermione quickly caught him before it made a clatter.

"Obliviate." She whispered, erasing the memories.

She undid her spell after positioning him to lean against one of the sofa, watching him waiting impatiently wait for her to say whatever she wanted to say.

"I just wanted to say thank you for delivering Ginny's bag." She said.

Malfoy's face scrunched up; flabbergasted at the thought he actually obeyed her just to hear a… thank you?!

"You called me out here for that?!" He shouted angrily, "How dare you—"

"And give this back to Black." She said, handing him the handkerchief.

"Why can't you give it to him?" He retorted in irritation.

"Because he will refuse."

"And what makes you think he'll accept it from me?"

"Because you're a Malfoy." Hermione played the game of kissing up to the trademark of all Malfoy men: stroking their abnormally large ego, "And Malfoy never fails anything."

She watched as his face lighten up, his chest puffed up in pride and that was when Hermione knew she had him on hooked and lined. All she needed was to sinker.

"Or maybe I was wrong…don't worry, I'll—"

Abraxas snatched up the cloth, "No, I'll do it! You'll probably fail. Black won't ever say 'no' to me."

"Thank you." She said before heading outside the common room.

When Abraxas sat back down Riddle resumed his questioning, "Continue what you were saying."

The Malfoy heir frowned in confusion as if he didn't know what Tom was talking about, "About what?"

Tom narrowed his eyes suspiciously, just what had happened in the moment between them?

"The one you were talking about earlier. The fight between mudblood and blood-traitor."

He scratched his head and cocked his head to the side, "What fight?" Abraxas shrugged, "Don't worry; it's probably usual fight about girly stuff."

"Then what were you two talking back there?"

"She just wanted to say thanks for bringing the blood traitor's bag and give Alphard back his handkerchief."

Tom examined Abraxas from head to toe as if checking for any injuries, eyes slanting narrower when he failed to find any hint.

* * *

><p>For the next few days, it was difficult for Hermione to do her daily things without constant protection charms and resorted to putting up barrier charms around her bed and her belongings. The girls began to taunt and bully her. Verbal abuse, threats, physical violence, you name it. And she knew Riddle sent multiple jinxes toward her direction but it simply bounced away when it hit her invisible protection charm. He should learn this wasn't orphanage full of muggles that stood no chance against Riddle's magic.<p>

Hermione never gave in. She was more than willing to ignore the little children's tantrum if it meant she will achieve her desire. After-all, nothing comes with the price and achieving something wasn't easy. Quid pro quo — that is how Hermione will understand as.

Her relationship with Ginny was strained. While Ginny initially refused to speak to Hermione and vice versa, Ginny began to reach out but it was Hermione that pushed her away.

Alphard seems to note Hermione purposely sat herself alone at the darkest corner in every class, spent almost all time in library, shielded herself in and the only time she spoke was when she put her hand up to answer the question in class which was almost all the time but other than that, she never spoke. She was stark different with Tom. While Tom did not flaunt his knowledge and intelligence (the capacity of his intelligent shined in his coursework and homework), he did it subtly and only showed when others forgot just to remind them what he was capable of.

Thankfully Hermione managed steal a few hours of sleep when her body overcome with exhaustion and biological need for sleep rendered her whole world into darkness on the cold floor of the Hogwart ground before she was woken up by the sound of woman screaming with pain. Hermione was glad when she opened her eyes she was alone.

"Hermione, are you not going to eat again?" Ginny emphasised the word 'again', "You need to eat something."

As if Hermione was caught, she hid her trembling limbs under the table — a movement Tom noticed as she gripped her hands together to cover the movement, pulling her sleeves over the revealing fleshes.

"I'm not hungry." Hermione said, digestion problem were common occurrences of insomnia and sleep deprivation which left the body no time to recover or fix.

She stood up, intending to leave the table until something caught her attention.

A lone figure stood on hall entrance, watching her with peaceful expression and a small slight smile. The woman gazed at her before wended down the hall.

"Mum…" Those shaky words left her, her eyes frozen on the empty place where she had been before bolting from the table and chasing after the hallucination.

The whole table turned their head to darting figure although most returned back to their meal, her action caught certain groups' attention though.

"'Mum'?" Alistair repeated in confusion.

Ginny dropped her fork, chasing Hermione's tail.

* * *

><p>"Mum!" Hermione shouted after, even when she's running it seems she can't catch up to the willowy figure gliding through the crowds.<p>

She ignored the puzzled and perplexed countenances on other students' faces as she pushed herself through them, her eyes only on her mothers' back. Even when she tumbled and tripped, her eyes never left her.

The figure escaped the castle's wall, heading to the Forbidden Forest where Hermione finally caught up with her.

"MUM!" Tears broke out, flooding down her hollow cheeks like uncontrollable force.

She finally stops under a tree, it was the largest tree in the Forbidden Forest that stood out from its gloomy darkness and the only place a sun manages to shine through.

It was also the place where _they _were buried.

The woman smiles before evaporating with the light like a mermaid disappearing in bubbles.

Voiceless scream and tears marred her face, collapsing onto the damp mud where the icy cold sensation stabs her exposed legs and hands.

"MUUM!"

"HERMIONE!" Ginny skids toward her and quickly pulls her into her chest, recognising the place before tears fills the corner of her eyes.

"Mum!" Hermione shouted as her calling will bring her back, "Mum! Dad!"

_**The news that rebelling magical folks were captured and prisoned in dungeons next to where they put muggles and muggle-born witches and wizard soon reached the Golden trio's ears. Hermione, having heard her parent were captured in Australia, quickly disguised herself as a known Half-blood and infiltrated the prison camp only to hear her parent had been tortured and killed for information for Hermione's whereabouts. This was when self-resentment began; she had abandoned them to be captured because it was either them or her, Harry and Ron. **_

"_**Please, don't…" Hermione still disguised and pushing herself to the front of the metal bars, pleaded to the Death Eaters as they prepared to dispose of her parent bodies that she can't take it anymore and intervenes, "They are human beings!" They are human beings to her…**_

_**But one of the Death Eaters coolly replies, "A human being? Where? These corpses, you mean?"**_

_**It's his cavalier attitude that chafes Hermione the most, the raw rage and sorrow rushing through her veins like uncontrollable fire.**_ _**It was also a realisation that no-one will shed a tear for muggles and muggle-borns alike if they died.**_

"Mum…" Her whole world dyed red before turning black.

* * *

><p>"Move out of the ways, boys!" Madam Howard scuttled past the group, pouring recovery potion in the glass.<p>

"What happened, Madame Howard?" Alphard asked, worry omitting from every pores of his body.

"Undernourishment and sleep deprived." She sighed, "I specifically told her she must eat and have plenty rest! She's in worst shape than when she walked out of this room!"

When Hermione fainted in exhaustion, the boys managed to find Ginny dragging Hermione's slumped body on the edge of the Forbidden Forest and four managed to bring her to Madam Howard much to her worries.

Still unconscious, Madam Howard carefully tipped her chin backward to make sure the liquid went down her throat before turning to Ginny, who was thanking the boys, with some questions.

"Why has she not eating or sleeping?"

When Madam Howard removed the magic hiding her imperfections, the Slytherin gangs could finally see the toll of her suffering. Her cheeks were empty, lip dried and chapped, dark bags under the eyes and the trembling limbs even when she was unconscious. The healer was more surprised she actually managed to use magic in her state.

The red headed Weasley turned to face her dear friend, intertwining their fingers.

_Is dying the answer? _She asked Hermione internally, _Will dying help escape all this? Will it help you stop all the attacks and receive apologies from those who are sorry? Will it help you to escape this unlikeable image? No, it won't. How can dying get rid of or protect anything? That's ridiculous! _

"Why has she not been sleeping?" Madam Howard asked Ginny.

"…She..can't."

"Is it insomnia?"

Ginny nodded.

"I'm not surprised." She commented, brushing Hermione's lip hair away in rapport, "I'll brew some sleepy draught for her to get through the night."

"Thank you."

When Madam Howard went away to brew the potions, Abraxas spoke up for the group, "What happened to you two out there?"

She regarded him for a moment before replying with a simple answer, "Hell."

It was apparent that was all she would reveal and their presences were, while appreciated, unnecessary as Ginny attended to her side with concern. One by one, the gang left. Starting with Lestrange, Avery then Malfoy (who had certain worried looks but this was dismiss by Ginny as nonsense), Black and lastly, Riddle. He gave Hermione one last glance over his shoulder before joining his gang.

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>When this is over, let's get married."<strong>_

Her eyes slowly opened, noticing external warmth on her left hand she saw Ginny's trademark fiery red hair sprawled across her bed, having fallen asleep while tending to her bedside.

"Ginny," She shook her wake, "Wake up."

She stirred, tired eyes opening to see the worried look on Hermione's face even though it should be her who should be worried. Weary, tired and bereaved, Ginny pleaded to her with small, frail voice, "Don't ever do anything rotten like starving. You are a disgrace to Harry and Ron. Ignoring me is fine. Getting into fights is fine. But, don't do anything cowardly. When dying, at least die with pride and dignity."

A tear slipped past Hermione's cheek and the two girls became silent, "I'm sorry."

Ginny's expression of anger softened into sympathy as Hermione continued, "I'm a complete failure. At everything I do, I'm absolutely worthless. I know this, and yet I continue to burden the human race with my presence. Every day I rob the world of valuable air by breathing. I'm a thief, and I hate myself for it. I don't deserve to exist. But even though I know it's the right thing to do, I'm such a useless coward. I don't even have the courage to die like them other than like this."

"You said you won't die remember? We have each other." Ginny soothed, placing the plate of food in front of her, "Let me tell you… people like you who don't like to bother others and keep everything to themselves are the most difficult to handle, you know…because even if people want to be nice to you they don't know how."

"Come on, and eat." Ginny said.

Hermione, hesitant, halved the bread before biting large chunk into it. She forced them down even if she had no appetite but something strange happened. Middle of her eating, the full extents of her hunger seem to strike back like a dam that had been broken.

It was when she realised out of the desire to eat, sexual desire, the desire to sleep and the desire for honour. Of all the human desire, the most fierce is appetite.

She ended up eating three plates to the point she felt sick from being too full, not hungry.

* * *

><p>Against Madam Howard's admonish, Hermione decided to go back to her daily life, disliking the feeling of dependency and display of weakness. She forced herself to eat and sleep with the help of sleeping potions until she could feel the return of some sort of resemblance to the normalcy of mundane life.<p>

She tolerated all sort of abuse the Slytherin girls threw at her with pride and dignity, refusing to yield under their tyranny. Hermione also wanted to reach out to the Gryffindor — the place where she and Ginny belonged. Oh and her dear Professor McGonagall whom she dearly loved. Yet Hermione chose to watch them in dark with envy, fearful of what her existence could bring to the peace. Years of prejudicial persecution against her kind and the experience of them only imposed on the thought she will bring misfortune unto others involved.

Perhaps one day…when she finally has the courage.

Ignoring the knowing looks from her 'classmates' she headed to the castle's outer wall where Hagrid hut would have been just as she had been every day since her conflict with Riddle, immediately seeing the piles of colourless clothes thrown on the muddy ground on display.

Bending down, Hermione wordlessly started to hoist up her dirtied clothes while ignoring the obvious giggling behind her back, brushing out the excess mud on her clothes. Even though she put enchantment on her area and belongings, her newly washed clothes weren't and brought by House elves while students were in lesson. Annette's gangs would skip classes just to dump her clothes into muddy ground to remind her 'muddy' blood.

The whole Slytherin had come to sight see Hermione pick the clothes like a pauper picking trash to see anything worth selling and while she did not voice out her accusation, her glares were apparent of her thoughts. It was a secret everybody knew yet a secret no-one would say, they put on an innocent onlookers' mask but their eyes mocked her sadistically.

The students parted to form a wide path for Hermione to walk past, like a spectator enjoying the circus at the cost of the circus workers' pain and sadness. She stopped in front of Riddle and their eyes met, never breaking contact and Hermione made sure to flash her best smirk as if silently challenging him if this was the best he could do. It made him feel like a child throwing a tantrum when his toys are taken away and this unnerves him.

Head high and shoulder stretched, she marched through corridor and dumped her clothes into the bath tub where she waved her wand and soon her clothes were clean again.

It wasn't until few days later, Hermione had her first real confrontation with Riddle was in a library. She enjoyed the solitary confinement the library offered her and bathed in that loneliness. People hardly came here, she didn't know why, whether they underestimated the power knowledge had or simply too lazy, she didn't complain. It was their life and their own responsibility to make the best out of it.

Madam Stump gave her a small smile, having gotten aquatinted with her better during her frequent visit, constant stay and respect for the books. Like Madam Pince, she too was strict on the qualities of the books that was kept in the library and kept strict eyes on Hermione when she first came due to her young age and status as new student. But after realising Hermione had great respect for the books and wisdom as she had for staff of Hogwarts, Hermione was allowed great deal of freedom around the library without constant scrutiny.

As soon as Madam Stump was gone, she shut the book she used as a façade and headed to the restricted section. Looking around, hidden tension emitting like a person on the road of plotting political conspiracies, stepped deeper into the section.

She summoned the book before using ambiguous terms she hope it will work second time, "Accio Horcrux books." Soon, in her hand was a large volume, bound in faded black leather with, 'Secrets of the Darkest Art' written on its cover.

The book was now in her hand and all she needed to do was to destroy. Putting the book in the bean bag, safe from prying eyes, she attempted to head back.

"First years are not allowed in restricted section." A cold voice drawled, snapping Hermione out of her small moment of relief and happiness.

Looking over her shoulder, it was Tom Riddle standing in the sections' entrance.

Collecting herself with calamity she practiced and finessed overtime, she attempted to play naïve, "I didn't know. I'm only new and I was curious."

She traipsed toward him to go her way but a hand roughly grabbed her wrist before flinging her into the book shelf, managing to knock some books over as long fingers locked around her neck, effectively cutting off the oxygen.

"I still haven't forgotten that day." He hissed, a wild look appearing and morphing his handsome feature into animalistic ones, "You were done for when you insulted me that day."

Hermione gasped as he tightened the hold. There was a moment of flashback of her near death experiences, those hatred and suffered unfairness boiled inside her. Using the strength she could muster, she chocked his neck as well and they tumbled onto the ground with Hermione straddling him on top.

There was a moment of surprise, a look of being caught off guard at her retribution as Hermione spit out her venomous words, "You think you're the only one who can kill?! I have hands too! You're not the only one who can use them!"

The more other squeezed, the more they tried to outdo each other. Hermione could feel her sight blurring and faltering strengths in her hands. Their eyes never swayed from one another and Hermione in the heat of the moment gritted out, "Filthy, just like your inbred mother."

In shock, the strength in his hands faltered, loosening his grip and she found herself staring into the shocked and wide-eyed dark orbs, "W-What…?"

It was too late when Hermione realised what she's done.

"What did you say?! My mother?! What do you know?! TELL ME!" He squeezed harder.

"Ah…—"

"Tom!" Someone called, "Tom!"

"Shh! This is a library, Alphard!" They heard Madam Stump berating the group.

Hermione used the moment of this distraction to push him away, making sure she was out of his arm range, grabbed her fallen bean bag and ran before he had a chance to stop or question her for her slip, ignoring Alphard's greeting or glares from the most of the gang.

* * *

><p>The two decided the Room of Requirement would be their hideout and occasionally spent most of their time together here.<p>

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see you." Ginny revealed, noticing Hermione freeze in her spot, "He only want to discuss what he saw."

"What did you two speak about?"

"We were discussing about meeting up with Tom Riddle's father and his family." Ginny said, "Professor Dumbledore said it's not too late to save him so he wants to try and reunite them."

"You saw Riddle, he hates muggle-born. He refuses to breathe the same air as someone like me. If he is imprisoned in a room full of 'filthy muggle-borns', he will certainly lose it and massacre every single one of them even if he's only eleven."

"It's worth a try." Ginny replied, although a little hesitant now she realise there's an actual chance for that happening, "Professor Dumbledore and us are meeting them next month, near Christmas holiday."

Hermione said nothing before flicking her wand as flames erupt on the black book and watched the accursed pages burn.

* * *

><p>"<strong>I didn't want to become some embittered old hack getting his revenge for the rest of my life. And I didn't want to become some scared creature cowering in a corner. I remember telling myself not to carry the hatred around, although I know where it is." <strong>— **Salman Rushdie**

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**_

_**Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and hope my Hermione wasn't too dark or OCC although OCC-ness cannot be avoided if you want to portray her as revenge thirsty 11 year old.**_

_**Here's some 'facts' about Hermione in this chapter:**_

_**Hermione is suffering from PTSD (Post traumatic stress disorder) and PTED (Post traumatic embitterment disorder). **_

_**PTSD is developed after a person is exposed a traumatic event and is followed by symptoms such as persistent re-experiencing and emotional numbing. **_

_**PTED- modelled after PTSD, is as names suggests, **__**assert that a traumatic event could trigger "embitterment and feelings of injustice" that impair one's "performance in daily activities and roles." These reactions can be so strong and enduring that they render someone helpless to address the situation.**_

_**It is said those with PTED were hard-working and mentally healthy people until a triggering event (such as **__**personal injustice, humiliation, frustration, and helplessness) **__**destroyed their core values and shattered their basic beliefs.**_

**_Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to review! _**


End file.
